


Spice

by nagginggargoyle



Category: Sister Claire (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagginggargoyle/pseuds/nagginggargoyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catharine and Oscar and spicy food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spice

**Author's Note:**

> ordinarily i wouldn't post something so short here, but the ao3 sister claire fandom is way too small! come on, let's populate this thing.

Catharine loves spicy food. She loves it so much she's been known to sew a few dozen buttons or darn a couple of quilts for a small bag of chili flakes or a flask of Moroccan paprika. It doesn't remind her of home, not at all, but that's honestly a good thing. It might remind her of a certain shade of hair, though, maybe, just a little.

In any case, she loves spicy food, and so she takes the opportunity on a chilly Saturday afternoon while Oscar is out playing with swords to enjoy one of her favorite, and certainly most spicy, snacks. She hums to herself contently as she chews, crossing her feet over the coffee table, enjoying the sharp bite on her tongue.

She swallows a large mouthful just as Oscar barges in, panting and sweaty and grinning ear to ear, the giddy tremor of a hard match won written all over her limbs. She stumbles over to Catharine, brushing three fingers over the side of her face.

"Oh, hey, Os–" Catharine starts, and never gets to finish, because Oscar is kissing her then, gentle and hot and really rather thorough.

Catharine loves spicy food. Oscar, the gallant, brave, ridiculous wimp, however, can barely handle a sprinkle of pepper in a big pot of soup.

She lets go of Catharine with a miserable whimper, hand clapping over her mouth. "Mm?" she says, eloquent as always, plain anguish in her eyes.

"Yeah," Catharine informs her, grave. "I've been eating jalapeños." She holds up the damning evidence: a half-eaten ham sandwich, with lettuce and tomatoes and something threateningly green.

Oscar slumps back against the couch, letting go of her mouth to wrap her arms around herself. "I'm dying, Catharine," she moans. "Ah, Catharine, you've killed me."

Catharine snorts and leans back in, hand fisting in Oscar's ridiculous frilly cloud of a shirt, kissing her hard as she hums a deliberate tune, the sound vibrating meaningfully between them. The hairs on Catharine's arms and the back of her neck prickle in a familiar tension as she lets go both of the song and Oscar's lips.

"There," she says crisply, smacking her lips over the pleasant spicy sting she's just stolen from Oscar. "All better now."

Oscar blinks slowly, a lazy, devoted smile tugging at her mouth. "Hm," she agrees, taking hold of Catharine's hand. "I think," she adds around a kiss of Catharine's palm, "I might live, after all."

Catharine sniggers, and finishes her sandwich one-handed.


End file.
